


Oakenshield Inc.

by Aida



Series: 30 Day AU Challenge [22]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And forgets to eat, Bofur's a terrible cook, Multi, Office, Superheroes, Thorin's a protective uncle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aida/pseuds/Aida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin wonders who Fíli's new friend is. </p><p>He also wonders why beef smells like tuna.</p><p>(Sequel to <b>Sting</b>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oakenshield Inc.

**Author's Note:**

> Filibo because the last one was not-so-nice, but this one isn't like that! :)

Thorin watched Fíli from the window in his office, typing away at his computer and looking as bored as anyone could be. He knew that Fíli wanted to take up the family business, even though the work he was currently doing seemed to bore him completely. He kept with it, no matter what. Even after he was kidnapped and rescued, he only allowed himself two of the five days off before he went back to work. Thorin tried to press the issue, but Fíli refused. 

He feared for his nephew. Feared that he wasn’t prepared to return to work after such a short time. But he got the work done, and he seemed to always have someone to talk to. Dís, his mother, or Kíli, his brother. There was also someone else he spoke to, mostly over the phone. Said someone always seemed to put a large smile on his face. It put a bounce in his step. Put a wistful glint in his eyes.

Thorin was sure it was Sting. The vigilante that worked for the police, and his nephew’s rescuer. The small, pointy-eared, bare-footed man that Fíli kissed in thanks. 

He really needed to track this Sting down and have a word with him. Even if it was just a phone call.

As he pondered this, his own phone rang. It was rare for someone to bypass his secretary and contact him directly. Only a few had his direct number, and most of those people were clients. Clients with lots of money. 

He picked up the phone rather quickly. “Oakenshield Incorporated, Thorin Durin speaking.”

“Hello to you, too.”

Thorin huffed at the sound of his husband’s voice, leaning on his elbows. “Bofur, what have I told you about calling my office phone during work hours?”

“Only when it’s an emergency or for our lunch break.” His husband responded as Thorin heard some clinking in the background.

He straightened. “Ah.”

“You don’t know what time it is, do you?”

“No! No, I do!” Thorin argued, looking for a clock before digging for his mobile. “It’s…”

“Oi! No cheating!” Bofur snapped, though there wasn’t any heat in his voice. 

“Twelve-thirty.” He guessed, wincing at the deep, hissing breath his husband took.

“Well, you’re only a little off.” He heard the reply. “It’s actually _one-fifteen_.”

Thorin cursed, wrangling with his chords to get at the small mini fridge by his desk where he kept the lunch Bofur had packed for him that day. “I’m sorry, love. Work’s always hectic around this time.”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to forget to eat.” Bofur chastised. “Now get your lunch, sit down, and have a lovely little chat with your gorgeous husband.”

“I’’ve got it!” Thorin assured, pulling out the Tupperware and the silverware. “Okay, now put him on the phone.”

Bofur laughed, and he smiled at the sound. “Oh, you old dog!” He cried. “Alright, then. Have you pulled it out? I do hope you like it. I stole the recipe off my brother.”

Thorin peeled off the cover, cringing a little at the milky substance inside. It wasn’t soupy, nor was it rock hard. It was almost gelatinous, and he saw noodles and random flecks of brown and green inside the cream-colored mush.

“What is it?” He asked, sitting down with fork in hand.

“It’s beef.”

“Looks like tuna.” Thorin muttered, taking a sniff and frowning. “Smells like tuna.”

“It’s beef!” Bofur countered. “Beef stroganoff, to be exact! I followed the recipe down to the tee!”

“Did you really, love?” Thorin asked, recalling previous instances where Bofur said the exact same thing, and the resulting meal had been a disaster. It was why Thorin cooked when he could, or paid someone else to do it. His in-law, Bombur, might’ve been an exceptional cook, but Bofur was certainly not.

“Yes, I did!” He cried. “Go on, take a bite! I know it looks weird, but I swear it’s edible.”

Thorin took a deep breath as he stuck his fork inside, cringing at the squelching sounds that were emitted. He was biding time, as much as he could, before taking that first bite.

“I’m waiting…” He couldn’t any longer, so he took a large forkful and shoved it into his mouth, relaxing when whatever peculiar taste that typically came from Bofur’s creations didn’t come. “Well?”

He chewed, humming thoughtfully as he regarded the taste before swallowing. “Not bad.” He managed to state, even as he heard Bofur crow in delight. “Would probably taste better warm.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you work too hard to forget to heat your food.” Was Bofur’s response. “So, how has your day been so far?”

They spoke for a while, and though Thorin tried not to go too in depth about his work, Bofur managed to get him to talk about his current stresses and irritations. Something that took a great deal of time and trust to get him to be comfortable with. Something that spoke of the trust he had in Bofur now. Thorin did love him, and did trust him, even though it took him years to do so (the time it took to go from dating to being married spanned over a decade, not counting the laws). He even spoke of his concerns about Fíli.

“He’s been through a rather trying experience.” Was Bofur’s answer. “Give him time and space, and don’t press the issue. As for his new friend, well, that’s a mystery. I don’t even think Kíli knows…”

But Thorin was no longer listening, for as he looked through his window again, he saw Fíli rushing away from his desk to meet up with two figures near the elevators. One was Bifur, whom he recognized. One of Thorin’s close friends, his in-law and head of security. The other man, he didn’t recognize, though Fíli must’ve known him well enough to be comfortable with embracing him in front of everyone. 

Fíli’s friend was a short man, barely as tall as his nephew who was rather on the short side. He had a riot of curls on his head, glasses resting on his nose, and wore tweed in the middle of rather warm office.

“Bofur…” He muttered. “There’s a man here meeting with our nephew.”

“Really?” Bofur asked slowly. “Stranger?”

“I’ve never met him.”

“How close are they?”

“They just hugged in the middle of the office floor next to Bifur.”

“Smile?”

“Completely genuine.”

“Very well, then.” Bofur stated, short and sweet. “You know what to do, love!”

“I’ll call you back.” He muttered, already standing from his chair as Bofur murmured his well-wishes before hanging up. He straightened his shoulders, adjusted his tie, and stepped out of his separate office, weaving around the desks, the voices of his nephew and the stranger growing louder.

“… Thought we could use it.” The stranger said in a soft, surprisingly kind voice.

“Could we ever! Let me just go get my-Thorin!” Fíli chirped, freezing when he saw Thorin moving to stand next to him. “I… I thought you were busy with Uncle Bo.”

“I was, but I happened to notice that you have a new friend that Bifur was kind enough to escort up to our private offices, so I cut it short for now. I promised to call him back later.” Thorin replied, staring at the stranger. “Now, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

The stranger looked a little pale as Fíli awkwardly looked between them.

“Ah, okay.” He said, putting his hand on the stranger’s shoulder, a rather intimate gesture, and guiding him forward. “Bilbo, this is Thorin Durin. He’s the owner of Oakenshield Incorporated, and happens to be my uncle. Uncle, this is Bilbo Baggins. My boyfriend.”

Thorin quirked an eyebrow, for Dwalin had yet to inform him of this development. “Really? Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Baggins.”

“Er, likewise. And it’s Bilbo. Please, just Bilbo, Mister Durin.” The stranger, Bilbo, said as he shook Thorin’s hand. 

“I must say, Fíli hasn’t mentioned you.”

“Well, uncle, that’s because we’ve only been dating for a few months.” Said nephew cut in, sending Thorin a hard look. 

“Did you tell your mother? Your brother?”

“Mum’s met him before.” Was Fíli’s quick answer. “And Kíli introduced us. They worked together.”

“A librarian, then?” Thorin guessed, and Bilbo nodded. He actually thought that Bilbo would’ve been a grocer instead of something as simple as a librarian. “That must be an… interesting line of work.”

“It _is_.” Fíli cut in, pulling a flushing Bilbo closer to him. “But right now, Bilbo and I were just about to go out to lunch. So, if it’s alright, I-!”

“Now, hold on there. Lunch isn’t going to run off.” He cut in, forcing on one of his most winning smiles. “Perhaps the family should meet him properly. Maybe we can all have dinner together.”

“That would be-!” Bilbo started, but Fíli cut him off. 

“We’ll have to see.” He said quickly. “Bilbo’s got a rather hectic schedule. Running around all hours of the night doing… things…”

Thorin frowned, for that was curious. Why on earth would a librarian have to work so late? That’s when he noticed it. How those curls had a familiar sheen he had only seen once before. How he stood awkwardly in his old, worn loafers. How those bright green eyes flashed with something dangerous. How he could easily imagine pointed ears hiding underneath his locks. 

“A peculiar schedule for a simple _librarian_ …” He said slowly, and he watched as Bilbo stiffened. “Whatever for?”

“It’s… it’s not just library work, Mister Durin.” Bilbo answered, even as Fíli dashed for his desk. “You see, I work as a freelance writer. Not to mention that I’ve become the guardian to my recently-orphaned nephew.”

“My condolences.” Thorin muttered. “Even so, perhaps your nephew…”

“Frodo.”

“ _Frodo_ can join us for dinner as well.” He finished. “Say… This Sunday. Seven o’clock, and don’t worry about bringing anything, we will take care of it all. Providing that you don’t have anything… else going on that could _interfere_.”

Bilbo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sunday and seven. I’ll be there, and so will Frodo.”

“Great, that’s good!” Fíli cut in, just as they began a staring contest, throwing his coat. “Now, gotta dash! You know how hectic the restaurants can be around this time! I’ll be back in an hour!”

Thorin watched with narrowed eyes as his nephew dragged Bilbo towards the elevators. He knew that there was something peculiar about the stranger his nephew had embraced. Knew he had seen those eyes and hair before. He also remembered the vow he kept to himself when it came to Fíli and the vigilante that caught his interest and irked Thorin to no end, despite said vigilante saving his life. 

He looked at Bifur. “Run a background check on Mister Baggins.” He ordered softly. “Be discreet. Send your results to my personal email ASAP.”

His head of security signed an affirmative before heading for the stairs (he was always tetchy with elevators, only taking them when he had no other choice). With that, Thorin walked as casually, yet as quickly as he could back to his office, where he promptly shut the door and dialed his husband’s number.

“Well?”

“I’ve got some rather troubling news, I’m afraid.” Thorin replied. “But first, I want you to make sure Bombur’s free on Sunday. We’re going to be having dinner guests.”

**Author's Note:**

> Next is VAMPIRES (AND WEREWOLVES)!!!


End file.
